Until Dawn
by CorinBlue
Summary: Killer!AU After a tragic event leaves Dan unable to function in society, he starts killing to exact his revenge. Then he meets Phil, a government assassin with the same target as him. Will they be able to end their target before they're caught or will their distrust of each other tear them apart?


**Authors: Alessandra and Corin**

 **TW: suicide, forced self-harm, swearing, violence, explosions, mental illness, murder, death, needles, car crash, blood (This is a violent story about killing! Please do not read if you are triggered by violence or death of any kind. We would hate to cause anyone to be triggered!)**

 **Beta: consulting-archangels (Thanks so much Alex!)**

 **Summary: Killer!AU After a tragic event leaves Dan unable to function in society, he starts killing to exact his revenge. Then he meets Phil, a government assassin with the same target as him. Will they be able to end their target before they're caught or will their distrust of each other tear them apart?**

 **Word Count: 10.9k**

 **Genre: Action, Romance, Death (is that a genre? Idk but there's a lot of it so it's gonna)**

 **A/N: This story was written for Mason! We hope you like it :)**

We love all the YouTubers we used in this story! There wasn't meant to be any hate for Chris or Emma!

 _ **Prologue :**_

Dan sat on a bench, the roaring echoes of the Tube around him. She was speaking loudly and obnoxiously on her phone, drawing stares from others sitting around her. She was pretty, he couldn't deny that, but he also knew that she was working for them. The thought made him sick to his stomach. He glared at her through his brown fringe; she wasn't looking at him. The Tube screeched to a halt, jolting everybody slightly forward. As the doors opened, the lady, who was now screaming into her phone and drawing many more stares, shoved her way off the train and Dan followed her. Following people was usually easy for Dan, but this lady made it practically child's play.

Phil smiled gently, pushing the switch blade towards the man. His ice blue eyes were alight with a sick glee. The man whimpered quietly, trying to push himself closer to the wall. Phil giggled and grabbed the man's wrists and pinned him to the floor.

"You know, if you just take the blade and do as you're told, this will make everything considerably easier for both of us," Phil whispered, his voice dangerously soft. The man was sobbing now but refused to take the blade. Phil rolled his eyes and sighed, "Fine then. Maybe your daughter will cooperate better." He pushed the blade closer to the man.

The man stared at Phil, his green eyes wide and tears streaming down his face. His eyes flickered to the blade, gently lifting it off the cold cement. He shook his head as he brought the blade to his wrist. Phil watched in delight as the man roughly drew it across his skin. He watched the life flow from the man, smiling lightly as he did so.

 _ **Part 1:**_

Dan sat on the edge of the fountain, picking at a ham and cheese sandwich. He really wasn't hungry but he needed to look as nonchalant as possible. This man was very paranoid and following him was proving to be quite the challenge. Dan wouldn't have minded so much, but there was a new episode of the Great British Bake Off recording and he really just wanted to gather his information, pick up some takeout and go home. He sighed in annoyance as the man once again looked over his shoulder suspiciously at everyone around him. Dan diverted his eyes, looking around the park, as he did so he met the eyes of a man a short distance away from himself. The man held his gaze, his unnaturally blue eyes cold and calculating. Dan knew that look. It was the one he had right now. Dan stood up and walked over the blue-eyed man. Dan took up a defensive position as he closed in on the mysterious stranger. "You're following that man." Dan gestured over to his target. "That's weird and creepy."

The man smirked. "And how would you know that? I mean, if you weren't following him too." Dan was becoming even more nervous. This man was smart. Very smart and Dan couldn't afford that. Not now, not when he was so close to catching his target.

Dan narrowed his eyes at the man, "I was following no one. Thank you very much."

The man regarded Dan suspiciously. "Well, Mr. I Was Following No One Thank You Very Much, I'm Phil. Lester. Phil Lester." The man, Phil, smiled and Dan couldn't tell if it was genuine or not.

Dan swallowed. "Dan Howell." He stuck out his hand and Phil grasped it. Dan blushed as Phil touched him. He didn't understand why, though. It wasn't as if he knew this man, let alone liked him.

Suddenly Phil blurted out, "Would you like to go to supper with me?" Dan narrowed his eyes, suspicious.

"I don't know you. Why would I go out with you? I don't make a habit of going on dates with people I don't know."

"Well that's why people go on dates, isn't it? To get to know the other person. And plus, it's not like I'm going to kidnap you." Phil smiled patiently, waiting for Dan's response.

Dan thought about it. Yes, this man was suspicious. Yes, he had been following Dan's target. But, if Dan led this man on, it would make it much easier to dispose of him later. The closer you are to someone, the more they trust you, the easier it is to break them and then kill them. So Dan decided he would say yes. It would be easier that way and then he could get back to stalking that ambassador.

 _ **Part 2:**_

The date went quite well, in Phil's opinion. Dan seemed quite smitten and he seemed to trust Phil enough that it would be quite easy to manipulate him into killing himself. Phil needed Dan out of the way before he found out about him and his job. So after the date was over and Dan suggested they go back to his apartment for a while with a nervous blush and a bite of his lip, Phil agreed. Killing him in his own house would be perfect. They took the Tube back to Dan's apartment. They sat together but didn't say much the whole way home. The Tube wasn't too busy this time of night. In fact, there was no one else in their carriage. That's how Phil noticed Dan was whispering to himself. He couldn't quite hear what he was saying but Dan seemed to be in his own little world, not at all aware that Phil could hear him. The Tube stopped suddenly, jolting Dan and Phil out of their daydreams.

They got off the train, not saying a word, and walked to Dan's apartment. Dan unlocked the door with a key and stepped inside. He muttered something to Phil and took his jacket out of his hands and hung it in the closet. Phil smiled and flopped himself onto the couch, watching Dan walk into the kitchen to make some tea. "I like your house, the colour palette is very... Pleasing," Phil said, looking around the room.

Dan walked over to the couch. "Thank my ex-girlfriend," he said, his voice monotone.

Phil nodded as Dan came and sat beside him on the couch. The silence that followed wasn't awkward, per say, but it wasn't pleasant. Dan glanced over at Phil, who was staring at him, a slight smile on his lips. He leaned towards Phil unconsciously. Phil leaned in to close the gap, and Dan noticed the light dusting of freckles across his nose. He tilted his head slightly to the side before closing his eyes and completely closing the gap between them. Their lips pressed together tentatively, the firmness of Phil's lips was completely different from the softness of females that Dan was used too. He felt Phil's hand reach up and cup his cheek, lips moving in synchronicity. Dan dragged his tongue across Phil's bottom lip and Phil opened his mouth and let him in. Their tongues fought for dominance when suddenly Dan felt a familiar pressure on his side. He pulled away quickly, his breathing heavy and his face flushed. Dan stared at Phil.

"Why pull a knife when we were having so much fun?" Dan whispered. He slowly reached into his pocket for syringe before he froze. "You're working for them. Aren't you? The ones who killed Celia." Anger boiled in Dan's stomach.

Phil slowly stood up off the couch, sensing Dan's anger. "I don't know who you're talking about. But, I am afraid that I'm going to have to kill you," Phil said, smirking indignantly.

Dan growled, "Not if I can help it." Dan pulled a syringe full his own special paralyzing chemical concoction out of his pocket and lunged for Phil. Phil grabbed his arm and flipped him down onto the floor, kneeling over Dan and wrapping his hands around the other man's throat.

"Who are you working for?" Phil asked, his voice rising to a shout. "Who sent you after Ambassador Kendall?" Phil was screaming now. Dan started gasping for air.

"I'm... n-not... working... f-for anybody..." Dan choked out. Phil loosened his iron grip on Dan's throat.

"I'm killing them for her!" Dan started shrieking, "They killed her! They fucking killed her! They made her car run into the tree!" Dan sobbed, tears staining his cheeks. "They killed her because she knew, she fucking knew that they were monsters! And they fucking killed her! They killed her, Phil. They killed her. They killed her. They killed her." Dan was writhing, his eyes unfocused, his pupils dilated. Phil got off Dan and stepped away to see what would happen.

Dan continued trembling on the floor, whispering "They killed her" over and over and over again. His breaths came in rapid gasps. Phil dropped his knife, falling to the ground beside Dan.

"Dan?" Phil said urgently, "Dan?" Phil sighed in frustration, he ran over every technique he had learned to calm a panic attack in his head. This man, the one he'd been trying to kill just minutes earlier, was having a psychotic episode. Before Phil could think of a solution to stopping Dan's spasms, he stopped moving. Phil took a deep breath to steady his heartbeat and reached over and took Dan's pulse. He had one. Phil breathed a sigh of relief. What am I going to do? he thought. I can't kill him, yet. I'll have to stay here with him. Until he wakes up and I can find out what he knows.

Phil carefully picked up Dan and carried him to what he assumed was Dan's room and placed him on his bed. Phil thought how peaceful Dan looked. How innocent. Phil shook his head. There was no use in speculating about Dan's past. Phil sat in a chair across from Dan's bed and pulled out his phone. This was quite the mess he'd gotten himself into.

 _ **Part 3:**_

Dan woke up, his head pounding. He grasped for last night's memories and found only a few. They were blurry and unfocused.

Then he heard a familiar voice. "You're awake then?"

Dan jumped and whirled towards the voice, every memory suddenly coming back in a violent rush of colour and sound. "Shit!" he exclaimed, looking at Phil. "What did you do to me while I was asleep? Did you call them? Are they coming?!" Dan heard a bang in the kitchen. Never taking his eyes off of the door, he spoke to Phil. "How dare you bring them here? They're going to kill me!"

Phil looked at Dan. "I didn't call anybody, Dan. Nobody is here," he said in his softest voice possible, trying not to spook the panicking man.

Dan slowly got out of bed and stepped towards the door cautiously. "They're here, you fucking liar. You brought them here."

Suddenly, the door slammed open and men flooded into the room, their guns pointed at Dan's chest. He stepped back, gasping. One man came forward; he was covered in black from head to toe and his mask covered his eyes. But his mouth. Oh god. Dan could see his mouth. A gaping hole of torn flesh and blood pointed teeth protruding from inside. "We've been looking all over for you, Daniel," the man said, his voice a low hiss, mixed with the clanking his teeth made as they ground against each other as he spoke.

Dan screamed and fell back onto the bed, scrambling desperately as he got tangled in the sheets. "Stay away from me! Stay away! I won't let you touch me!" Dan screamed as the men came closer, their mouths stretching into crooked grins.

The man at the front looked at Phil, who was staring at Dan, his expression one of hesitant curiosity. Dan watched as the man pulled out a pistol and place it on Phil's temple. Phil didn't seem to notice. The man pulled the trigger. Dan screamed again as he heard the sickening thump of Phil hitting the floor. The man grinned and turned to point the gun at Dan. He could see the finger pulling the trigger, hear the gun go off.

"Dan. Dan. Dan!" Suddenly, the men disappeared and he was staring into the piercing blue eyes of Phil.

Dan slowly focused on Phil. "Ph-Phil?" Phil let out a breath of relief and said something that Dan didn't catch. "Where did they go? How did you survive? He shot you! I watched him shoot you in the head."

Phil grabbed Dan's arm. "They weren't real Dan. You made them up. You were hallucinating." He loosened his grip on his arm.

Dan's breathing started to slow. "What do you mean?" Tears leaked from his eyes. "What?"

Phil watched him for a moment, considering his words carefully, he determined (quite quickly) that nothing he said to Dan was going to make him feel better. So he leaned down and kissed Dan, effectively cutting off the incessant babbling. As he broke away, Dan's huge eyes stared into his and they sat up. Phil didn't know where to start, but he didn't have to.

"Why were you following Ambassador Kendall?" Dan asked.

Phil shrugged. "He's a bad man and I was ordered to kill him. What about you?"

Dan swallowed. "He works for them. He killed her. So I kill him. It's simple."

"How do you kill them? Your targets I mean," Phil questioned.

"Well, first I make sure the victims absence can be accounted for. Business trips and such so they're family and friends don't suspect anything. Then a paralyzing drug, so there's no marks of resistance. Isolation chamber to drive them insane, then air into a vein. Makes it look like a heart attack. And by the time I put the air in, the paralyzing drug is out of their system. Besides, no one would check for a drug like that on a heart attack victim. Total time of about a week. What about you?"

Phil deliberated cautiously. Does he tell Dan and risk exposing himself? Then again, there's no going back now. Plus, talking about this seemed to keep Dan calm and make him less jumpy. Besides, they're tied together now. For better or for worse.

"Make it look like suicide or make them do it themselves. I'm pretty good at mental manipulation. Growing up training to kill people your whole life really has perks" Dan looked slightly confused. "My parents died right after I was born. I was placed with the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation and they trained me to kill people. You gotta love dictatorships." Dan nodded but still looked very puzzled. "And plus, I have Ph.D. in psychology. That... Also helps." He looked slightly awkward sitting there discussing how he ends people's lives with a man he just met. And made out with. And snapped out of a schizophrenic paranoia driven psychotic episode.

 _ **Part 4:**_

It had seemed like hours, the amount of time they had sat there talking to one another about their conquests. Dan found himself enjoying the conversation, as well as Phil's company. Suddenly, a loud 'BREAKING NEWS' came from the television and it jolted Dan and Phil out of their own world.

The annoying newscaster, Ron Shawl, said "Ambassador Chris Kendall has hired a new security detail as there is the suspicion that he is being followed and targeted by an enemy killer. There is no news yet as to whether this is a plot from another government or from an individual. I'll pass this story off to Anna Seeting, who is at Parliament with Ambassador Kendall and others." Dan's breathing was heavy. How the hell could he know? How could that bastard know? Dan had been so careful and reticent. the only person in the whole world who knew was Phil and Dan had been with him since Phil had found out. Phil could see that Dan was starting to panic so he reached out and took his hand.

"There is no need to be alarmed, Dan. The plan is quite complicated. Nor Kendall or any of his goons will be able to figure it out. But we do need to move fast. Kendall is out of control."

Dan glared at Phil. "What do you mean 'we'?"

Phil looked at Dan with an air of superiority. "It's obvious, isn't it? We have the same target and the same goal. Kendall is paranoid out of his mind. Yes, both our plans are known only by a few, but Kendall will have the whole of MI6 on our asses before either of us can make a move. I don't want to die, Dan, and I doubt you do either. So stop being childish and agree to help me."

Dan swallowed. "Fine, but if I have even a trace of doubt about you or your motives, I will kill you. Understood?"

Phil nodded. "Don't think I won't eradicate you as well."

Dan stuck out his hand they shook on it. "Now what's the plan?"

 _ **Part 5:**_

They entered the red room and Phil blinked, taking it all in. Pictures of Kendall covered every surface; him walking down the street, at work, in hotel rooms with women who weren't his wife, and pictures of him with his wife and child eating in a restaurant. Phil turned to Dan, a smirk on his lips. "You were quite busy before I came."

Dan shrugged, picking up a picture of Kendall in a fairly compromising position with a woman who was very much not his wife. "Well, it's not like I do much in a day. It's not like I have a job, I haven't been... Safe. According to my psychiatrist since Celia... Left." He trailed off awkwardly, placing the picture back down on the table.

Phil nodded, turning back to the pictures. "These pictures probably will be a pretty helpful in discovering his schedule and determine the best time to attack and have as few witnesses and civilian casualties as possible."

Dan looked at him. "Civilian casualties? What is that supposed to mean?" Dan looked uncertainly at Phil, his eyes cautious.

Phil stopped fiddling with pictures and looked at Dan over his shoulder. "You never know, Dan. Kendall could lash out. The security could shoot randomly. And plus, we have to make the death look like an accident. But it also has to be quick." He turned back to the pictures, an air of annoyance around him.

Dan took a step back. "Alright. But what about my style? Like the paralyzer? And isolation?" He asked.

Phil turned back around. "We'll figure something out. Don't worry."

They both then turned back around to the pictures, discussing different tactics and ways they could take out Kendall.

 _ **Part 6:**_

As Dan showed Phil the red room and explained the functions of each object, Phil found himself distracted by Dan's beautiful figure as he moved around the small space. There was a feeling deep in Phil's stomach that he didn't like. He could tell he was starting to care about this man, and caring was a weakness he couldn't afford. But as Dan explained how meticulously he'd been tracking Kendall, Phil couldn't help but feel that as much as he knew it was wrong, as much as it would ruin his life, he didn't care. Dan Howell was gorgeous and treacherous and Phil couldn't be his apathetic self, as much as he wished he could.

 _ **Part 7:**_

Dan could feel Phil's eyes on him as he explained how to develop the pictures. He pretended not to notice the warm feeling he got as Phil gently smiled at him, which was something he had never done in the whole twelve hours he had known him. As Dan explained the steps he had taken when tracking Kendall and how difficult it was to get the pictures he had, he couldn't help glancing at Phil, taking in his icy stature, the way his blue eyes calculated everything he saw, processing the level of threat. And he noticed more physical aspects of him. The way his feet barely made a sound as he walked around the red room and the way he unconsciously pushed the black fringe out of his eyes, enthralled by what Dan was explaining to him. Dan smiled inwardly as he realized what these feelings meant.

 _ **Part 8:**_

When they walked out of the red room, it was almost seven in the evening. Dan went over to his sofa and sat down. Phil sat down beside Dan, careful not to be so close. Dan pulled out his phone and started scrolling through what Phil assumed was a social media had pulled out his phone to do the same.

Dan stood up suddenly and proclaimed, "Phil. We need to go. On a date. Well, a faux date. But still."

Phil frowned trepidatiously. "What?"

Dan rolled his eyes, obviously exasperated. "I have a system that allows me to see Kendall's schedule. His every move. He just booked a reservation at Fera in London. We have to go. You can borrow a suit." Dan stalked away and came back out and handed Phil a black suit and a dark blue tie. "You can change in the guest room." Dan walked back to his bedroom to change, Phil assumed.

As Phil was finishing tying his tie, a sharp knock came from the door and Dan walked in.

"Spiffy," he said. "Now, come. We're going to be late for our reservation, Mr. Lester." Dan smiled flirtatiously. Phil felt his stomach fall to the floor but tried to reply as smoothly as possible. Dan stood in the doorway, he wore an almost identical black suit and deep red tie, his hair was parted on its usual side.

"Not bad yourself, Mr. Howell." Phil winked and held out his hand. Dan took it. "Let's catch ourselves a cab to one of London's 3 Michelin star restaurants."

They stepped out of Dan's flat, a light drizzle sounding softly against the cement. Dan looked at the sky, his nose scrunched in a displeased way. "Dammit. I just straightened my hair." He let go of Phil's hand played with his hair in a vain attempt to stop the inevitable curl from happening.

Phil watched in mild amusement. "Dan. You are such a snob." His blue eyes shifted from Dan back to the street, waiting for a cab that he could pull over.

"I am not a snob. If any one of us were a snob, it would be you," Dan huffed, and, entering the cab that had just pulled up, he sat against the door, his arms crossed across his chest and his hair curling in the humidity. He heard Phil talking to the cabbie.

Phil turned and smiled at Dan. "To continue our conversation, I am the farthest thing from a patrician. I kill people for a living." He said the last part in a whisper, careful of the cabbie who was obviously eavesdropping. Dan didn't respond; he just kept staring out of the window in quiet dejection.

 _ **Part 9:**_

They arrived at the restaurant around eight o'clock, just in time for the dinner rush. As they were being seated by the maitre d'hotel, Phil inquired, "How did you manage to get a reservation at one of London's classiest restaurants on a Friday evening?"

Dan shrugged in response. Phil had come to see that half of Dan's sentences were shrugs. "I have connections."

Phil smiled. "Okay." Dan and Phil were seated at a table, close to the back of the restaurant. Phil eyed around the space uneasily, searching for Kendall.

"He's not here yet. His reservation is in 10 minutes," Dan said to his unspoken question.

Phil, a little perturbed, responded, "Thank you for answering my question, Psychic Dan." Dan blushed and Phil felt a little bit of heat rising into his cheeks as well. They were broken out of their lover's stare by the irksome, scratching voice of Ambassador Kendall as he was seated at a table nearby. Phil watched them out of the corner of his eye, expertly tuning out the constant stream of chatter of the restaurant.

"..And I told him, Regina. I told him not to pass the fucking bill. But do you know what that fucker did? He passed the motherfucking bill." Phil heard the exasperated tone of Kendall and the quietness of his wife, Regina, asking him not to be so loud and to not use that kind of language in the restaurant.

Phil was brought back to attention by Dan staring expectantly at him. "What?" Phil asked, his eyes drifting back to Kendall and Regina again.

"I asked you what they were saying. And don't be so obvious," Dan said, looking down at the menu.

Phil had opened his mouth to answer when the maitre d'hotel returned to take their orders, "Good evening. My name is Liouk, and I will be your waiter this evening. Can I start you off with a drink?"

Phil looked down at the drink menu his eyes scanning down the pages, "I will have the Barolo 'Otin Fiorin' Cappellano, Piedmont 1998, Coravin, please." Liouk nodded, jotting down the order quickly and turned to Dan, his grey eyes expectant.

Dan looked slightly bewildered, looking between the maitre d'hotel and Phil. "I- I'll have the same thing, too," he stuttered.

The maitre d'hotel nodded and left, returning a few moments later with two crystal glasses, blood red liquid swishing gently inside. Liouk placed the glasses on the table. They both thanked him. "So, are we ready to order?"

Dan glanced at Phil who nodded. He turned back to Liouk. "Can I have the cornish lamb, sweetbread, cabbage heart, radish and rosehip, please?" The maitre d'hotel wasn't fazed, as he scratched down Dan's order onto the pad of paper.

Liouk turned to Phil. "And for you, sir?"

Phil smiled lightly at Liouk. "Seabass and pork fat, butternut squash, spinach and yoghurt, please." Liouk nodded and smiled at them both before walking over to where the kitchen was located.

Dan smiled at Phil and said softly, "You're pretty good at this being fancy thing."

Phil smiled. "I've been trained to be able to fit into any situation at any given time. And I have quite a proclivity for fitting in. Most of the time anyways." Phil reached across the table and took Dan's hand and squeezed. Caught up in the atmosphere of the restaurant and the faux date, Dan and Phil leaned towards each other and their lips pushed together briefly.

They broke away, thinking no one had noticed until they heard the acerbic voice of Ambassador Kendall from the table next to them. "Fucking fags," he swore. "Shoving their fucking sexuality in our faces. Let's go, Regina and take our money to a place without these pathetic cunts." He pushed away from the table and slammed some money down on the table. Phil couldn't help but notice that is was definitely not enough to pay for what he and his wife had ordered. Phil leaned over to Dan and whispered, "Just one more reason he needs to die." Dan laughed.

 _ **Part 10:**_

The rain had stopped by the time the two men had left the restaurant. They held hands as they walked down the street, following the GPS tracker Phil had snuck into Kendall's phone earlier in the operation. Dan was slightly tipsy, not drunk, but there was enough alcohol in his system to remove the filter from his mouth. He told Phil stories about his family, whom he didn't see, and the friends he used to have. Phil listened intently, but as Dan told him stories, he felt worse and worse for this man he had met just 36 hours ago.

Phil had been raised as he was, there was nothing he could do and that had never bothered him. But Dan, oh, Dan could have had a beautiful life. This broken, tortured man was just a victim of horrible circumstances. He'd been an honours college graduate, working his way towards a what would have been a very successful career in forensic sciences. He'd had an amazing girlfriend who was an assistant to a very banal but influential ambassador who had shared all his political secrets with her. She had been on her way to an incredible career when she was killed in a tragic car accident 2 years prior. That was what had set off Dan's schizophrenia. He'd convinced himself that the government had killed because she knew too much and that they were after him next. From the proof that Dan had provided to Phil, it didn't seem too far off. Phil knew that governments will go to extreme measures to protect their secrets, even if it meant killing off a civilian or two in the process. He knew that quite well as he was one of the people who helped the government do so. He was about to say something to comfort the man when he felt Dan suddenly tense up.

"Dan," Phil said calmly. "Dan, love, are you okay?" Dan's breathing quickened and Phil could feel his pulse increasing. "Dan. Dan?" That was when the rambling started. It was incoherent at first, just strings of vowels and consonants pouring out of Dan's mouth but they quickly became clearer. Dan was breathing heavily. "Celia!" His eyes were wide. "No. Fuck. NO!" He was screaming now, tears streaming down his cheeks. He collapsed to the ground before Phil could react and starting convulsing. The words 'Celia', 'them' and 'dead' poured from his mouth in a stream of screams and sobs. Phil knelt down, pulled the other man's head into his lap and stroked his hair. He was grateful that, at this time in the night, nobody was around to notice the scene. Phil quietly whispered comforting words into Dan's ear, stroking his hair gently until Dan finally passed out from exhaustion.

 _ **Part 11:**_

The dinner had been very nice. The food was some of the best Dan had ever tasted in his life and Phil's company only made it better. They were walking home, and Dan was quite happy as the rain had stopped and his hobbit hair had not returned. He clasped Phil's hand as they strolled down the street. The alcohol had removed his discretion and he told Phil his stories. Who he was, where he came from and why he does what he does. A nagging voice in his mind told him this probably wasn't a good idea but he couldn't care less. He was smitten with Phil. He trusted this man, although he probably shouldn't, but he had seen him at his best and weakest moments and if Phil were going to kill him, he would be dead already. He knew that with one hundred percent certainty. Dan hadn't felt this- well- good in a long time. Phil made him feel safe, as dumb as that sounded, and Dan thought that for once in his life, maybe he wouldn't screw up. But just as he thought this, he started to feel a hallucination take hold. He tensed. He could hear Phil in the background, yelling his name in a concerned matter, but it was of no use. He could already feel his screwed up brain taking control...

It had been a cold night; there had been frost on the lawns that morning and a trace of snow that morning. The police said it may have been the snow or frozen rain that had done it, but Dan didn't believe them. He knew. He had known from the moment there had been a knock on the door that something was out of place. Celia rarely drove and when she did, she was the most cautious driver Dan knew. She never just loses control like that. Never just slides into a tree without even trying to hit the brakes. Dan tried to tell the police this, but they didn't listen. No one listened. They told he was mad with grief and delusions. He had tried so very hard to get someone, anyone, to believe him, but no one would. So he took matters into his own hands. These people, these horrible, sadistic people, everyone seemed to put their absolute faith in; they were monsters and they needed to die.

He planned for months and months until he could finally exact his revenge. No one will ever know for sure, but maybe, just maybe, if someone had listened to Daniel James Howell on that fateful night, then perhaps he would have never been driven to the madness that made him do what he did to those people. But in hindsight, did those people deserve what they got? Perhaps. Maybe they did kill Celia after all. These thoughts rushed through Dan's mind as if they were on a carousel traveling at the speed of light.

'It was all too much,' he thought and then his brain went silent.

 _ **Part 12:**_

For four hours, Dan has been out. His breath came in ragged gasps. He knew he was dreaming; he knew that what he was seeing wasn't real. But he couldn't discern reality from hallucination. He looked around the bland landscape, watching it slowly morph into the flat he knew and loved.

"Okay, so, out of every article of clothing I have, this dress makes me look the least... Frumpy." The soft voice of Celia floated from his bedroom. Dan looked sharply towards the bedroom, jumping up and running towards her voice.

He stopped in his tracks at the sound of another voice. His voice. "Celia, darling. You look great no matter what you wear." There was the sound of laughter. Dan closed his eyes and took a few careful breaths. He opened them and continued walking down the hall. It took all of his self-control not to run into the room and wrap Celia in his arms. Dan reached the door, and he looked into the room and steeled himself for what he was going to see.

He saw a scene from a few years ago, the night of Celia's accident. Dan had been helping her pick out a dress for a dinner party at her boss' house. She couldn't decide between the knee-length, deep scarlet dress with a sweetheart neckline or the floor length midnight black one with elbow length sleeves. She had decided on the black one. So she had pulled up her silky red hair into an elegant bun, leaving a few strands to frame her slender face. Her already vibrant green eyes were enhanced by the black and green mixture of eye makeup she had chosen. She hadn't worn any jewelry that night. She had looked beautiful.

Dan watched as he stepped over to Celia and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, whispering something that made Celia smile. Dan remembered saying what he did. But he hadn't gotten to see her reaction. He watched himself step back and smile down at her, and he had turned to walk away when Celia screamed.

The sound sent shivers down Dan's spin. He whipped around to see himself and Celia staring at him. Dan opened his mouth to say something when he realized that they weren't looking at him, but behind him. Dan was scared to turn around, knowing what he was going to find. He was going to see them. The ones from the government, the ones with holes for mouths, the ones who had killed Phil and Celia. And countless others.

And he watched it. Watched as he was killed, as Celia was killed. He watched Phil get shot. Once. Twice. Three times. He watched Adrian. He watched his mother. His father. An innocent woman on the train. A young girl. His old friends. All of them dead, shot. Killed by the men. Merciless. Dan laughed at himself. At his idiocy, thinking he could save everyone, that none of this was his fault.

What an idiot he was.

 _ **Part 13:**_

It was early morning when Phil heard the sound of his communicator. His silent vigil over Dan broken by incessant beeping in his ear. He turned it on. "Agent B16," he whispered, careful not to wake Dan after his episode in the streets. He finally looked mildly halcyon.

Phil waited, knowing it could take a few seconds for the message to reach the other end. Finally, he heard the voice of his director, PJ Liguori. "Agent B16, you have a new mission. The termination of one Miss Emma Blackery. Wanted by French police for forgery, impersonation, and first-degree murder."

Phil sighed, shaking his head. "I can't, sir. Ambassador Kendall still hasn't been dealt with. Plus, there has been a... Drawback..."

PJ was silent for a moment. "What kind of drawback, Agent?" He sounded irritated, not necessarily angry, but getting there.

"There seems to be another man working on this case, and, before you say anything, I know I'd have the target terminated by now and that you're probably going to be exacerbated, but as long as I get the mission done, we shouldn't have a problem, sir," Phil said in a rush.

He could hear PJ sigh through the communicator. "You know what, Phil. And I'm speaking as your friend here, not your director, and I'm saying you're a fucking idiot. Like, Jesus Christ, Lester. How much shortsighted can you be?"

Phil sat dumbfounded, which didn't happen often and stared at the wall. "Director, I'm not letting feelings get in the way of this mission. It's just Dan has information that could be useful in the long- run. And I would be an idiot for not using it to my advantage." He could physically hear the 'Philip Lester. I am going to fucking kill you' vibes coming from the director.

There were a few minutes of silence before PJ finally answered, "You better not be wrong, Agent. Now kill the Blackery girl. And don't bring your boy toy."

"Yessir. "

 _ **Part 14:**_

When Dan woke, Phil wasn't there. He was slightly hurt that he hadn't stayed like the first time. He sighed and forced himself out of bed, padding softly into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass of water and sat at the table, watching the condensation form and slide down the glass. He didn't want to do anything. Their faces kept replaying over and over again in his head, their accusations echoing in his ears. They kept getting louder and louder. Never silencing.

Stop.

Please.

They were screaming at him to save them, hands grabbing at him, pulling this way and that. His vision tunneled. He couldn't escape them. He was yelling at them too, screaming for them to quiet. His head hurt, his eyes were stinging. They were so angry. He tried to save them. He told them that.

And they were quiet. His ears were ringing. His head was pounding. But there was silence. Blissful silence.

 _ **Part 15:**_

Phil had a bad feeling. Emma Blackery wasn't an easy target to follow. She had a knack for disappearing just as Phil had found her. It was bordering on a week. One of the longest missions yet, besides the Ambassador Kendall case.

He was watching her now, keeping an eye on her flaming red hair, cut short. She was conversing with a man, but Phil wasn't close enough to hear what exactly they were talking about. Emma glanced around, her eyes meeting Phil's for a split second before continuing and refocusing on the man's face.

Shit, Phil thought. She knew; she had to know. Phil sighed and walked back to his hotel room, another day of nothing. He just wanted to get back to Dan. When he got the call from Liguori he left less than five minutes later, not leaving a note or anything for Dan.

He felt horrible for leaving like that, especially at a time when Dan probably needed him most, if what he was screaming was anything to go by. Phil was brought out of his reverie by a tap on his shoulder. He turned slowly, plastering a look of confusion on his face before turning and looking at the face of whom he expected was Emma Blackery.

He was correct. She was even shorter up close, having to crane her head upwards to look at Phil, "Why are you stalking me." It wasn't phrased as a question, more as a command.

"I-I wasn't..." Phil played the 'I don't know what you're talking about' card. Emma looked disbelieving. If anything he had read up about her had been true, she was no force to be reckoned with. "Okay, I swear. I've never seen you in my life. I just saw your hair and I thought it was cool and you saw me staring and I left before it got any more awkward than it already was." He forced false innocence into his voice, hoping to distract her from the obviousness of the lie.

The hard look on her face softened, her eyes still cautiously defensive. "Okay. It's just that my buddy who I was talking to said that there was someone who had been watching me for a few days and that I should be cautious."

Phil nodded slightly. "Yeah... So..." He looked at his watch, feigning panic. "Oh, sh-crap! I have a date in five minutes!" He glanced at Emma before turning and jogging lightly in the opposite direction, calling over his shoulder, "Nice talking to you!"

He turned around the first corner he saw, stopping to catch his breath, although it had barely been anything running the short distance. He reviewed everything he had learned in that moment, Emma wasn't soft in any way, shape or form. She was intelligent, extremely intelligent. She observed you, fishing out any weakness that could be used to her advantage. She was a capable fighter, evident from her stance. But she didn't like fighting. It didn't bring the same thrill to her as it did to Phil.

Phil grimaced, he was losing his touch. Maybe being with Dan wasn't the best. He was out of practice. He was slowing. Phil pushed himself off of the alley wall, blending into the throng of people easily, without even a hiccup. He walked back to his hotel room, thinking of different ways to make it look like she had ended her own life.

Phil unlocked the door to his room, ditching his jacket by the door. He sat on his bed, staring at the wall with the pictures and newspaper cutouts plastered all over it. Cliché. He knew. But it was the best he could do considering the circumstances. He sighed. Back to the drawing board. Again.

He shifted around pictures and articles of different suicides, trying to decide which one fit the petite woman the best. He sat for hours, changing his plan over and over again until he was completely happy with it.

He smiled to himself and grabbed his jacket. Time to party, Emma.

 _ **Part 16:**_

He didn't have any cereal. And it crushed him. Dan really hated going out in public when it wasn't necessary, but his Tesco delivery wasn't coming until Tuesday so he pulled on his beaten black trainers and a black hoodie and tromped his way to Tesco. The one closest to his flat was one of the biggest in all of London, almost the size of a football field. Ever since Celia had died, he'd been very anxious about going into public. They could be anywhere at any time. What if they caught him off guard? What would they do to him? Dan shuddered at the thought as he walked into the enormous grocery store. He stumbled around the Tesco being shoved by overzealous moms with tiny toddlers until he finally got to the cereal aisle. As he was meandering down the way, not looking ahead of him, he ran smack dab into a woman. He started to freak out,

"I'm so sorry ma'am. I wasn't watching where I was going! Are you alright?" Dan rambled and looked up to look the lady in the eyes. His jaw dropped to the floor.

"D-Dan?" The lady choked out, "Daniel. Oh, my." Dan could do nothing but stare until he eventually stuttered,

"M-mum?" He could feel his eyes burning with tears. His mum was sobbing.

"Daniel. Are you okay? Daniel, sweetheart." His mum reached out and touched his arm. He flinched. "Daniel. Love, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." Dan still couldn't process what was going on. He hadn't seen his mum in 2 years, since the funeral. They had tried to contact him, even showing up at his flat once, but he'd always ignored them. They had only stopped trying a few months ago. His mind was racing. What if they sent her here? What if they're going to kill us all right now? His heartbeat sped up. He couldn't take this. What if-

"I have to go." He turned and ran, straight into a tall man. He looked up, at his dad. He couldn't take this anymore. Especially since his dad was holding a baby.

Dan got up off the floor and sprinted out of the shop. He could hear his parents calling his name but he didn't turn back. He couldn't turn back. He wouldn't endanger them like that. So he ran and he ran. Out of the shop and down the street. He didn't even bother with the Tube. He ran up the stairs to his apartment. Once he was inside, he collapsed. What had happened back there? His parents. He had wanted to stay and talk. He honestly had wanted to stay but he couldn't put them in danger like that. And that baby. He choked back tears. Was it theirs, was it a replacement of Dan? One to raise properly, one who would be successful, not some sick failure like he was? Dan let the tears flow. He couldn't take this. It was all too much.

 _ **Part 17:**_

The club was intense. The music and the lights filled Phil's head, lulling him into a dream-like state. He moved through the club with a practised ease and sense of purpose. Everyone parted for him, assuming he had someone to see and somewhere to be. He carefully moved to the back of the room and watched for Emma. She came in approximately 20 minutes after Phil. She was with a man Phil didn't recognize but that was of little importance. He was sitting at the bar, a drink in hand. He watched her move to the dance floor, moving to the music. Hips swaying, arms around her lover's neck. Phil just needed to get her alone. He downed the rest of his drink before standing and walking determinedly towards his target.

He took bleary steps towards Emma, reaching her and pushing the man out of the way. He leaned towards her ear, roughly shoving himself against her. "You look beautiful," he yelled into her ear, intentionally slurring his words to appear less than sober. Emma met his eyes and grinned, her white teeth sparkling in the multi-coloured lights. They moved in sync with the music, Phil's hands on her hips, holding her against him.

A few songs passed, the man Emma had been with before was watching them dance with a jealous look on his face. Phil smirked in his direction, before turning to Emma and placing a sloppy kiss on her lips. Emma stared at him in pleased shock, before grabbing him and roughly slammed their lips together. Tongue and teeth. Hands and hips. The beat of the song thrumming through them both. Emma clearly drunk, Phil pretending to be.

It was time. Phil pulled back and grabbed Emma's hand, pulling her towards the bathroom. Once they were free of the tangle of limbs and were near the restroom door, Phil turned to her and smiled reassuringly. He pushed open the metal door, pulling them both inside, the door swung closed behind them, muffling the pounding music. Phil locked the door behind them.

Surprisingly, the restroom was empty. Phil lifted Emma onto the counter, their lips meeting once again. Phil felt Emma wrap her legs around his hips; he moved one hand to her upper thigh, and she grabbed at his shirt, twisting her free hand into his hair.

They continued on like this for a few more minutes, hands wandering, Phil broke contact, resting his forehead against Emma's. They were both breathing hard and were sticky with sweat. Phil smiled. "Are you ready to finish this story?" he whispered, kissing down her neck. He felt Emma stiffen and smiled, looking back up at her, he reached into his pocket produced a sandwich bag with a collection of different coloured pills within. "Because I brought you an ending."

Emma stared at him, instantly sobering up, her face no longer flushed, but chalk white with fear. "W-what?" she stuttered, her eyes flicking between him and the baggie in his hand.

Phil smiled pleasantly at her. "Take them, Emma. All of them." He kept his tone light and airy, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Emma shook her head attempting to push Phil away from her, but to no avail. "N-no."

Phil grinned savagely. "Don't make this harder than it has to be Emma."

Emma looked like she was about to vomit. She choked out, "No. Fuck no. I won't do it!" She was shaking. She strained against Phil's arms but he held her down.

"It's what she'd want. She hated you. She would've wanted you to die." Emma started to cry.

"No! No..." She was breaking. Phil could tell.

He smiled viciously and said in a sing-song voice, "Emma. You killed her. In cold blood. How can you not hate yourself? Even I hate you and look at me." Phil grinned wider. Finally, Blackery had cracked. Phil just needed to push her over the edge.

"Take them, Emma. I know that's what you want. What you've wanted to do since that night. When you killed her. Emma. You stabbed her in the heart without any remorse. She begged for mercy and you didn't give her any." She was teetering on the edge. So close to falling. But Emma was a fighter and wouldn't give up so easily.

"You're no better!" Emma screamed. Phil shook his head.

"Oh, but I am, Miss Blackery. See, I only kill people who deserve it. Your sister didn't deserve it. But you killed her anyways. Poor, poor, poor Caroline. Stabbed through the heart by her trusted sister." That's when she broke. Phil sensed it. She held out her hand, Phil placed the pills in her palm. She threw them in her mouth and swallowed. Phil stepped back and let her fall to the floor. He grinned. "Goodnight, Miss Blackery." His tone sardonic and his grin sadistic, he wiped his hand on his pants and left before anyone could find her.

 _ **Part 18:**_

Dan hadn't eaten in over three days. He can't force himself to even walk down the stairs to get the Tesco delivery. So here he sat, in his bedroom, only able to move to go to the washroom and occasionally drink some water. His head was pounding, not only from the lack of food but as well from the overwhelming thoughts of his parents. He had tried not to think about them but that was like trying not to think about an elephant standing on your chest. He blew out a frustrated breath as he felt his eyes start to burn. He pushed the palm of his hands into his eyes, trying to force the emotion away.

A sudden slam of the door made him jerk his head up. He blinked at the sudden onslaught of light, pushing himself out of the desk chair. Dan took careful steps out of his room, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. He reached the end of the hall, and, looking into the kitchen, saw a familiar burst of black hair peeking into the fridge.

"You could've at least left a note." Dan said quietly.

Phil stood up slowly, not even the least bit surprised by the sudden appearance of his partner. "Sorry," Phil replied coldly, his blue eyes meeting deep brown. He watched an emotion he couldn't read flash across Dan's face. Phil sighed, "Dan, you look like shit. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going, but considering who I am and what my profession is, I thought you'd be little more understanding."

Dan muttered under his breath, "It's not that I don't understand, it's just that it would've been nice if you'd told me in some sort of fashion. Like, who are you scared I'm going to tell?" He sighed and moved to the living room, his glass of water in hand, not waiting for Phil to respond. He flopped onto the couch, turning on the TV to some news station, watching it in disinterest. He felt the weight of Phil sink beside him, but didn't move his eyes from the television. He took slow sips of the water, hearing Phil sigh and look at him. Out of the corner of his eyes, Dan saw Phil open his mouth to say something then close it before shifting uncomfortably- which was very out of character for Phil- and looking at the television also. Taking his eyes off of the screen, he turned his head to Phil. "You know, if you have something to say, say it." His tone wasn't necessarily angry, but the way he saw Phil flinch would've suggested otherwise.

Phil sighed again, "Okay, well. I've noticed in the half-an-hour I've been home," Dan's eyes widened a fraction at the word home, "is that you've changed. Quite a bit." He studied Dan, the way his brown eyes shifted downwards at the mention of him changing, to the way his pale hand tapped nervously against the water glass. Phil wanted to reach out and take that hand into his own; he nearly did, but he stopped himself, knowing that Dan wasn't exactly happy with him at the moment.

Dan's eyes finally shifted upwards, meeting Phil's own crystal blue ones. "Yes, that is to be expected when everything you know starts falling apart," he said quietly, his hand still tapping nervously against the less than cool glass. He looked as if he wanted to say more when a loud beeping erupted from the television.

The news reporter looked grim, she stared directly into the camera, her face serious, her voice modulated and matter-of-fact, "...The body of twenty-four-year-old, Emma Blackery," a picture of Emma flashed across the screen, "was found inside the Silent Crime club bathroom at around 3:30 in the early morning. Witness say they saw a man with black hair and blue eyes," a police sketch of a man who looked mildly like Phil also flashed across the screen, "was seen entering the room with the victim, before shortly after leaving alone. Presumably, the victim's life was ended within the time period between 12:40, when the suspect and the victim were seen entering the room and 1:30, later, when the suspect left. If you see this man," the picture flashed across the screen again, "immediately call the police. Do not, under any circumstances, approach him. He is considered armed and dangerous." The reporter finished speaking.

Phil looked at Dan. "Well fuck. I was sloppy. I was sloppy. They managed to get a suspect. There weren't even DNA markers! How in the bloody fuck did they get a suspect?" he half-yelled in shock.

Dan looked up at Phil. "So that's where you were."

Phil frowned. "Yes." He shook his head. "But I was fucking sloppy and now..." Phil trailed off with a frustrated noise. He didn't know what now. Lay low. He thought. Stay here. Wait for the police to do a subpar investigation. He took a deep breath. They police would rule it as a suicide, they had too. But Phil needed a place to stay and he didn't particularly want to show his face in public lest someone recognized him. He swallowed and looked up from his lap. He croaked, "Dan. I'm sorry."

Dan looked surprised at this sudden apology. "I should have left you a note or something, but I... didn't.I don't know the etiquette of... caring for someone. Actually caring, not fake caring." Dan's eyes bored into his own. Phil couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Prove it. Prove you care about me and help me kill Kendall. Then I'll believe you."

Phil smiled. "Okay."

 _ **Part 19:**_

Dan didn't need any more reassuring. The way he and Phil had planned the attack seemed flawless in his eyes. He looked over to the aforementioned man beside him, his eyes wandering over the lean form. Dan noticed how Phil bit his bottom lip in slight frustration as he reviewed the plan.

Dan stepped over to him. "You look mildly frustrated," he stated. Phil looked up at him in exasperation before turning back to the sheet of paper holding their plan. He stepped over to where Phil stood, looking over his shoulder at the words. "I feel like it might've been a mistake to write out the plan on a piece of paper," Dan said, walking over to the couch and dropping himself onto it, settling himself into his sofa crease, and pulled his laptop onto his lap.

Phil shook his head, not looking up from the piece of paper. "No, it's easier to detect any potential mistakes that could be made, and it's easily fixable."

Dan hummed in agreement, "It's also easy to fix mistakes on a- say- computer."

"Paper is easily disposed of, burned, eaten, ripped, not in any way suspicious in its disappearance. Whilst a computer," he looked up at Dan, "is less easy to dispose of and much more suspicious in its disappearance." Phil looked back towards the paper, scribbling something quickly on a separate sheet. He looked up as he started to hear Dan mutter to himself quietly, glancing around the room occasionally, his left hand on the computer mouse twitching erratically. He ghosted over to Dan, sitting beside him, placing a hand on Dan's. "Hey. Dan. It's okay, nobody is here, it's not real, you're safe. I'm safe." He smiled gently when Dan's eyes flick over to meet his. "The plan is going to work out fine, and everything is going to be okay. Kendall is going to die, and we're going to live in happy assassin matrimony. Okay?" Phil whispered softly, pushing Dan's long fringe out of his eyes and placing the laptop back on the table before pulling Dan into a hug.

 _ **Part 20:**_

It was going well, even with Kendall's new so-called security detail. They were such amateurs it almost made Phil laugh. He watched them from atop the building, stealing occasional glances towards his brown haired friend perched on the building directly across from his own. Dan looked up and shot Phil a shy grin. Phil smiled back. He turned back towards where Kendall would soon be exiting the building, he opened his duffel bag, pulling out his trusty M24 and twisted on a silencer. He positioned it on the edge of the building, calculating the wind and distance to his target, he looked through the scope towards the door, smirking to himself. This was going to be easy. Phil pushed his black fringe out of his eyes and positioned himself expertly.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, sharpening his senses. He could see Kendall clearly, about to walk out the office building he'd been having a "meeting" in. As paranoid as Kendall was, he wasn't that careful. All it had taken to get his exact whereabouts had been some firewall hacking and a few phone calls. Phil had to admit, Dan was quite good at impersonations. Kendall was almost at the door, he was reaching towards the door handle. Phil readied the sniper. Dan's voice filled his ear,

"T-minus 4 seconds until Kendall leaves the building." Phil giggled. He raised the gun. He never got the chance to shoot it.

He was blown back, his head hitting the gravel. He pushed himself to his knees, his ears ringing loudly. He coughed, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth. His mind was racing. What the hell had just happened? He took a deep breath and tried to slow his heartbeat. He pulled himself up to his feet, almost fainting but somehow managing to stay conscious. He glanced around. A bomb. An explosion. Dan. Dan!

Phil scrambled to edge of the building. He couldn't see the brown haired man. He sprinted to the stairwell. Sirens and the screams of civilians surrounded him over the sound of his ringing ears, but he didn't care. His only priority was Dan. He couldn't see over the smoke rising out of the now pile of rubble that was once the Kendall Enterprises building. Phil could feel himself starting to panic, his breath coming in rapid gasps. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to try to calm his racing heart. Dan was fine. Dan had to be fine. After all they'd been through together, there was no way he was going to let Dan get away with dying because of some stupid fucking explosion. He continued to sprint down to the ground, passing windows consumed by dust. The ringing in his ears lessened slightly, the sounds of screaming growing louder. He could hear sobs coming from somewhere in the distance as he ran to the building Dan was perched atop. Phil was running faster than he'd ever run before. He sprinted through the wreckage and arrived at the bottom of the building. There were fires all around the building and Phil was sure the building wasn't structurally sound, but he didn't care. He had to save Dan, or, at least, die trying.

 _ **Part 22:**_

Phil pushed through the door of the building. He hurried up the stairs, as fast as he could go without falling through them. He reached the roof of the building. It was chaos; the fire had grown and there was debris everywhere.

"Dan!" Phil sobbed. Where was he? Phil searched frantically, moving wooden beams and slabs of concrete. "Dan!" He shoved pieces of rubble at random, searching for the man. It felt like he had been searching for hours when finally he saw a leg. He ran over to the leg, pushing the slab of concrete off who he presumed was Dan. He grunted with effort, his hands stinging and bleeding from moving piece after piece of wreckage.

He looked down at the body. It was definitely Dan. Phil could tell even through the severe burns on his face and the crushed leg twisted at an awkward angle, that this was the man with whom Phil was in love. This was the man that convinced Phil to let down the walls in his mind, to let him realize that he wasn't just a mindless machine, trained from childhood to kill without mercy. Dan showed him, in his own way, that he was important and just a tool in someone's personal vendetta. Dan loved him, and he loved Dan.

Phil pulled Dan into his arms, cradling his head against his chest. "It's going to be okay. We'll be okay." He kissed the top of his head gently, before putting a hand to his ear and turning on the earpiece. "Director, this is agent B16 requesting immediate emergency extraction. Coordinates are 51.5311° N, 0.0682° W," he said, mustering as much confidence into his voice as possible. He looked back down at Dan, leaning his head down onto the brown hair of his friend, waiting for the extraction team to find them, listening to the groaning of the building on the brink of collapsing and the ragged breathing of his partner.

 _ **Epilogue:**_

"Are you ready love?" Phil smiled over at his partner.

Dan grinned back. "Very." He reached out and took Dan's hand. And they jumped out of the helicopter. The landing was smooth. The months of extensive training with Phil really paid off. He gracefully rolled as he hit the ground, standing up he looked towards his boyfriend, pulling out a throwing knife and twirled it around his fingers idly. He gazed into the distance, taking in the view.

"Russia is beautiful." Dan whispered, feeling Phil silently stand beside him.

Phil grabbed his hand, nodding in agreement as they took their first steps as a team towards their destination and their target.


End file.
